The Scot and I (20 page)

“Thirsty,” he whispered.

Alex reached for the cup of Miss Napier’s tea and carefully dribbled a few drops past Gavin’s dry lips.

“More,” said Gavin, and Alex obliged.

Alex said, “As soon as you feel up to it, we’re going to make a little trip. We’re getting out of here, Gavin, just as soon as you . . .”

Gavin had slipped into sleep again.

Alex put down the cup. He felt overwhelmed and unequal to the task of keeping everyone safe. The witch had said that they should break their journey at Aboyne, but he didn’t want to stop at Aboyne; he wanted to go to Aberdeen. Gavin had to see a doctor. He had colleagues in Aberdeen who could help them. They could telegraph Durward at Whitehall. The plan he had devised to get them away was risky but not impossible. The only fly in the ointment was Mahri. She would bolt the first chance she got.

He returned to the chair he had vacated and closed his eyes. He was a seer. That should give him some advantage. His mind emptied, and he kept it blank for a full minute, then slowly opened it to whatever occurred to him.

Apart from Mahri’s dirk, the only connection he had to Demos was the letter opener that Ramsey had used to kill Dickens. The last time he’d seen the blond wig was at the White Stag just before Dugald clobbered him.

He got up and opened the wardrobe where he’d stowed his satchel. It took him only a moment to retrieve the letter opener. Miller’s impression came to him, as it had the first time he’d palmed the letter opener, and he tried to shoo it away. It was Ramsey he wanted. But Miller wouldn’t be shooed away. He burst into Alex’s mind like a fireball. There was no picture this time, only a torrent of emotions and a jumble of words.

Alex opened his hand. His fingers were trembling. He didn’t question how this vision had come to him or why it was different from the others. His gift was new to him, only a few months old. He had a lot to learn about seers and what they could and could not do. All he knew was that his friend Miller was in trouble.

The words. What were the words that came to him from Miller’s mind? What were the words? There were no words now, only an awful silence.

Everything inside him, all his instincts, all his senses, were suddenly honed to a razor-sharp edge. It was now or never.

Fourteen

Alex had them all up at the crack of dawn. When Mahri came to herself, her first thought was that something had happened to Gavin during the night. Reaching for her wrap, she threw it over her shoulders and went tearing along the corridor to his room. When she saw that the bed was empty and unmade, her heart lurched.

She met Juliet and her mother at the top of the stairs. Like her, they had thrown a shawl over their nightclothes. They weren’t sure what had wakened them, and they hovered, undecided, until a door opened downstairs and a masculine voice bellowed that they were to come, just as they were, and have breakfast.

Alex met them at the door. He looked very serious. “Come in, ladies,” he said. “Breakfast is waiting. I’m sorry if I alarmed you, but time is of the essence. The sooner we leave this house, the easier I’ll feel.”

Mahri was struck by several things. Alex was clean-shaven, and he’d cut his hair. The same went for Dugald. But it was the sight of Gavin that startled her. Though he was dressed in a crumpled suit, and his face was still very pale, he had obviously recovered some of his strength and all of his wits.

Miss Napier’s credit could not have stood higher in Mahri’s eyes.

“Alex tells me,” he said, managing a painfully faint smile, “that we’re taking the train out, and we’re to leave almost at once.”

“To where?” asked Juliet, clearly confused.

“To Aberdeen, of course,” Gavin replied. “Where else does the train go? No need to look so glum, Ju. I’m going to travel in style.”

Mahri sank into the nearest chair. Her eyes were steady on Alex’s. She sensed the urgency in him vibrating beneath that calm exterior, and her heart began to race.

“What has happened?” she asked. “Who is leaving?”

“All of us.”

He took his own place at the table and passed around a jug of milk. “Porridge,” he said, as though they might not recognize what was in the bowl in front of them. “It’s the only thing I know how to cook.”

No one cared about breakfast. They were all looking expectantly at Alex.

He put down his spoon. “It’s like this,” he said. “Up till now our luck has held, but that could change. The flood helped us, but now that everything is almost back to normal, soldiers will be free to return to their duties. You see what this means? The search for Gavin and me—and you, too, Mahri—will begin in earnest. For my part, I’d rather fall into the hands of my colleagues in Aberdeen than be taken by Colonel Foster. Look what he has done to Gavin already.”

Gavin cut in, “You’re not thinking of giving yourself up, are you?”

Alex shook his head. “Not unless I’m ordered to by my section chief. Durward is a good man, a fair man. When we get to Aberdeen, I’ll telegraph him and tell him all I know.”

Juliet looked more confused than ever. “But Gavin isn’t fit to travel. You heard Miss Napier. He is supposed to rest and—”

Gavin cut her off gently but firmly. “Alex knows what he is doing. I trust his instincts.”

Mahri glanced at Alex then looked down at her bowl. She trusted Alex’s instincts, too, but there was something he wasn’t telling them, something critical. She glanced at Gavin. He was the exception. He looked as calm and determined as Alex. Yes, she thought, Alex had taken Gavin into his confidence. She didn’t feel offended or left out. Alex Hepburn was a good, decent man. Everyone in the room knew that they could count on him.

Where did that leave her? Could she count on him, too?

What did it matter whether or not she could count on him? She trusted her own instincts. So what were her instincts telling her? The answer invaded her mind like a Highland mist creeping into a fortress. She couldn’t keep it out.
Oh, no!
she told herself sternly.
You’re not so stupid as to let one careless kiss addle your brains.

She wasn’t falling in love with him. When this hair-raising adventure was over and she had begun her new life, Alex Hepburn would fade from her memory.

Alex said, “You’re very quiet, Mahri. What are you thinking?”

What was she thinking? She swallowed a mouthful of lumpy porridge as she tried to gather her thoughts. Finally, she said, “I was wondering why you did not bring this up last night. Why wait till now to tell us that we’re all moving out this morning?”

A shadow seemed to pass over his eyes, but it quickly cleared. “I had to see whether Gavin was well enough to make the journey.”

That did not satisfy Mahri, but before she had formed the words to question him, he said, “Now here’s the plan.”

They left the house in two groups. First went the Cardno ladies with Mahri posing as Juliet’s cousin, not as a female, but dressed as a young gentleman in the garments of Juliet’s late father. In Alex’s opinion, it was an improvement on Thomas Gordon. Mahri was too well-rounded to sustain a boy’s role. He could hardly believe how well she had fooled him—but not for long.

The second group was made up of Dugald and himself, dressed in the green tunics of the Queen’s Royal Guard, and Gavin, in his rumpled suit, looking deliberately the worse for wear, who was posing as their prisoner.

The first test came as they made to cross the bridge into Ballater. There were two guards at each end, but there were also workmen there, repairing the damage of the flood to the bridge. Juliet played her part well—the consummate flirt. She was dressed for the part, too, in a fitted brown linen gown with a flared skirt and a hint of a bustle. Her mother was dressed in black and leaned heavily on Mahri’s arm. When Mrs. Cardno stumbled and fell on her knees, the guards rushed to help Juliet and her cousin raise the old lady to her feet.

It was quite a performance.

“Now,” said Alex softly.

They stepped onto the bridge, with Gavin giving the impression that he’d been soundly beaten. His chin hung on his chest. His feet dragged. One of the guards came to meet them, but half his attention was still on Juliet, who was blathering on about going to Aberdeen for the day to do a little shopping. In one hand, Mahri clutched a leather traveling bag. If asked, her story was that her holiday with her cousins was over, and she was going home to Aberdeen. Her other hand was in her pocket where her fingers were curled around the butt of her little revolver.

Dugald whispered from the side of his mouth, “Here comes trouble.”

“Nonsense,” replied Gavin. To Alex, he said, “Remember who our grandmother was. I’ve been practicing. There’s nothing to it.”

They stopped when the guard came up to them. Alex said, “We’re taking this man by train to Aberdeen for questioning. Here are my orders signed by Colonel Foster.”

The paper he presented was the official notepaper of the queen that Miller had filched for him. The orders and Foster’s signature were a forgery, Alex’s handiwork. It helped that Alex had an aiguillette denoting his rank as captain pinned to his left shoulder.

The guard scanned the document. When he looked up at Alex, there wasn’t a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “You’ll want someone to clear the way for you, Captain,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Come this way. I’ll take you to the station.”

Gavin smirked. Alex frowned. This was too easy.

They crossed the bridge without a challenge and were soon trudging up Bridge Street toward the Station Square. It seemed to Alex that Gavin was leaning more heavily on him, and he was beginning to wonder whether he’d done the right thing by attempting to make for Aberdeen. It was the vision from Mungo that had galvanized him into action.
Now or never.
That was the message, but what had disturbed him more was the awful silence that followed.

He couldn’t think about Mungo right now. He needed all his wits about him to pull this off.

Mahri and the Cardnos went to the ticket office to buy their tickets. After that, they were to wait in the station house to make sure things were running to plan before they boarded the train. The train was already getting up a head of steam. There were few passengers on the platform, but that would change when they stopped at every small village on the way. There were only five or six miles between stations, and by the time they reached Aberdeen, the train would be crowded with people.

The stationmaster came forward and looked askance at the soldiers and their prisoner. Alex gave him the forged orders, and once again they were allowed to pass. They chose the last carriage, for first-class passengers only, and would have barred anyone else from entering it, not that anyone tried. A carriage with armed soldiers guarding a possibly dangerous criminal was something everyone seemed determined to avoid.

They waited till they were alone, then Dugald removed Gavin’s manacles while Alex did a quick inspection of the other two compartments that made up their carriage. His brain clicked automatically, noting doors, windows, and exits. As long as the train was moving, they could fend off an attack. If trouble came, it would be at one of the many stations between Ballater and Aberdeen.

He looked out the window to see Mahri and her companions boarding the carriage next to his own. There was no way to join them. Every carriage was a closed unit, completely isolated from its neighbors. Until the train reached Aboyne, there would be no communication between them.

“
Break your journey in Aboyne.
”

Not if he could help it. They would be no better off than if they stayed in Ballater. He had to reach Aberdeen. Besides, many old women in Scotland claimed to be witches. Who was to say whether the Witch of Pannanich Wells was a genuine witch or just a superstitious old woman?

He should talk. Who was to say that he was a genuine seer?